Internment
by Cariel
Summary: Confined in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, only one person can free Draco, but not without sacrificing everything that he sought to protect her from. Post-Hogwarts. AU. Draco/Luna.


Even though Dementors no longer patrolled the darkened hallways of the little island in the North of England, a place like Azkaban could easily suck out one's soul. Draco knew his parents would be somewhere in this tower, along with the rest of the former Death Eaters that hadn't perished in the final battle.

His so-called friends betrayed him and others that he had been on somewhat friendly terms with were now dead. His family desperately tried everything, even claiming to be on Potter's side in the end, it wasn't enough to avoid Azkaban. A simple apology wouldn't free them from the crime tattooed on their arms, the pledge to a dark lord whose final body now lay festering in his grave.

Though Potter destroyed Voldemort, that didn't mean that there still wasn't evil in the world. There were days when those who were in charge of the food would forget to bring him meals. He also overheard the cruelty the guards inflicted on the other prisoners. Their shouts of pain and torment echoed in his head every night as he tried to fall asleep.

It was easy to lose track of how long one remained imprisoned, though for Draco, it didn't matter. He knew he would be here for the rest of his life, even if he was innocent. He wasn't here because he had killed someone, nor for being a Death Eater. He was here because of the choices he had made, choices that he wouldn't have changed for the world.

Here at the end of things, it was so easy for Draco's mind to slip to the past. Things seemed so much easier then when the war was a distant aspiration of the Dark Lord, when the crimes of his family were as of yet unknown to him…

Back then, it seemed like the world was open to him and that he could do anything he set his mind to. He cursed himself now for being so naïve and arrogant back then. He even teased _her_. He didn't understand that her absentmindedness was a mask, that her entire being was pure honesty.

Luna, dear Luna, how could he have been so blind? She would have given him a future without fear, without hatred, but he let her go. It was the noblest thing he had ever done. In truth, it was the only thing he didn't regret.

There was no future for him, nothing but the stale chamber and the metal bands tightening around his wrists. His only comfort was the few memories he had of Luna. He remembered her shaking and cold, chained up in his parents' cellar. Even then, she was still so strong, polite, and unwavering. When he visited her, _she_ had comforted _him_, when she was the one who was imprisoned. It made no sense, but when did Luna ever make any sense?

Here in this dark cell, alone with only his thoughts for company, Draco closed his eyes tightly, struggling to picture Luna lying on her stomach atop the covers of his bed, the moonlight cascading over her naked flesh. If he reached out now, could he feel in beneath his fingertips?

There was only dirt and rock here, nothing as soft as her skin.

Biting back tears, Draco struggled to remember what it felt like to kiss her. It felt like an eternity since he last looked upon her face. He longed to see her again, to feel her arms around him, to make love to her…

His head felt heavy now as the weight of his thoughts and the lack of nourishment overcame him. He leant his head backward against the wall, as the sky seemed to open above him. As the rain pelted down on the tower, all he could think about was that November, years ago, when she found him in the rain and kissed him for the first time.

_'What the hell are you doing?' he tried to ask her._

_'I'm kissing you,' she replied._

_'Why?' _

_'Because I like you, Draco Malfoy.'_

Before that moment, Draco never thought that there was anything likeable about him. He was a bully, an instigator…and now secretly Luna's boyfriend. He liked her for her oddness and he was equally embarrassed by it. She didn't seem to mind that he didn't want anyone to know, but as time went on, this arrangement also took its toll on him.

Then came her abduction and imprisonment and Draco didn't want to hide it anymore, but it was a necessity lest his parents or the Dark Lord find out and seek to kill her. Draco began not to care about his own wellbeing, but rather for someone else, for a Ravenclaw, a young woman who gave him her heart. 

Luna's heart kept him alive in this cell. But some days were better than others. Some days he was able to see her clearly and hear her voice, her laughter, just as well as he had when she was with him. Today was one of the good days.

The sound of her laughter filled his thoughts and he smiled. She would come for him. Yes, he resolved himself to believe it. Luna would come for him. She would take him away from here and they would be happy.

The guards to his cell heard all of the stories Draco would tell them about his rescue. Most often they pitied him, but on other occasions, when Draco was having a bad day and demanded to know where his letters from Luna were, they were not so kind to him. They had heard it all.

But today, Draco didn't speak to them. Though he was as peaceful as he could be in this place, he was too tired and weak from the months, years, of solitude to bring himself to greet the guards. Instead, his head remain resting against the wall and his eyes closed as they brought him something to eat.

What Draco didn't expect was to see a young man he didn't recognise enter the cell. The man had an enchanted quill, jotting down notes as he dictated to the quill. He spoke to Draco in low tones, asking him questions and soliciting answers. Draco remained unresponsive to the man because he couldn't understand him. It didn't sound like he was speaking English. Finally, the man left and Draco could close his eyes again.

His peace was once more disturbed when the man and two burly guards entered. This time, his chains were removed and he was escorted from the cell. Draco's legs were like jelly and didn't seem to work as well as they used to. They were taking him from Azkaban, but he had no idea where he was going. He didn't bother asking.

Hours passed and he must have blacked out at some point because when he came to, he was in a room of what looked to be a house. He wasn't sure, but as he took in the couch, chairs, and a wall of books, it seemed to be like a room at Hogwarts or someone's private property. His eyes had a little difficulty adjusting to the brightness of the lights. He did, however, notice that his arms and legs were no longer bound.

He heard voices in the back of the room, but they were speaking too softly for him to understand what they were saying.

'May I see him now?' a woman's voice requested.

He heard soft footsteps approaching and his eyes widened at the sight of her. 'Luna?' he asked.

She was frowning and this confused him, but her eyes were just as soft and kind as he remembered. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, let alone move or even dare to touch her. She was so beautiful! He felt dirty and ashamed of his appearance. He would have wanted to look his best for her. This was not how he had dreamt of seeing her again.

'I thought it had been long enough,' Luna said matter-of-factly.

Draco didn't understand her meaning and his curiosity was readily apparent on his face.

Luna touched his thinly bearded cheek, her voice barely above a whisper. 'It's been six years, Draco. I finally got through to them. They finally believed me—that you didn't use an Unforgiveable on me—'

His eyes widened in fear. 'They're going to arrest you—Luna—' he protested. What vigour he thought long since left his body returned with full force as he jumped to his feet, grasping her arms fiercely as he had that night when everything went to Hell.

There was no use in Luna trying to calm him down, for his thoughts were not as clear as they had been before his imprisonment. He believed the world was now a threat to Luna and that he had to protect her.

'You have to take me back to Azkaban—You must, Luna! You'll never be safe!' Draco unwaveringly insisted, his grip on her arms ever tightening as his voice rose with intensity.

Then he saw tears in Luna's eyes and he thought he was hurting her. He released her arms, apologising. 'Don't cry—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—I'm sorry…' Her tears made his own eyes brim with tears. It had been too long since he last saw her and he was ruining it with his anxiety. But the fear wouldn't leave him. He had to protect her. 'We have to get out of here. Where are we?' He looked frantically around the unknown room, not recognising anything, except a well-worn copy of the _Quibbler_ resting on the table nearby.

Draco didn't notice the gentlemen on the other side of the room until one of them spoke up, 'He's all yours now. Owl us if you have any questions.' And with that, the men disapparated.

'What's going on? Luna?' Draco asked in concern.

'It's over, Draco,' Luna told him. 'You're home now.'

Draco shook his head, still not understanding what was going on. 'But the Ministry—Where are we?'

'We're at my flat, Draco. They've let you go because the Wizengamot finally admitted my testimony and understood the situation surrounding it. They know that you didn't cause me to do anything against my will and that I believed I was killing a Death Eater…that I didn't know it was Colin—I'm just so sorry that it's taken so long, Draco…It's all I've been doing—It's all I've been able to do until now.'

It took a while for Draco to process this until it finally sunk in. 'This is real? This isn't a dream? You're not going to be in trouble?'

Luna flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He felt her chest rising and falling as she began to cry. The strength of her arms was almost overwhelming at first and he found it hard to breathe. 'Luna, Luna…' he said, repeating her name until she had calmed down. 'My love, don't cry. Please.'

Then Luna was laughing and shaking her head as she wiped her tears away. 'I'm just so happy that you're here, that it's all over.'

After Draco had a shower and shave—oh how good it felt to shave!—he found some new clothes waiting for him on the bed. Luna had taken the liberty to buy him clothes and even though they were a little large on him, for he had lost weight in Azkaban, he knew he would still be able to fit them well enough. He saw her on the other side of the room, just watching him with her large, glassy eyes. They smiled.

Even though he had no money or prestige, even though he hadn't a single ally or relative that he could count on, Luna didn't care. Her strength and belief in him, in spite of the odds and the prejudices against him, gave him a hope for the future that he had only dreamt of in those long years, rotting away in a cell in Azkaban.

He had no words to express his joy and relief, and just how humbled he was to be in her presence. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. He most certainly didn't deserve Luna's unwavering loyalty, determination, faith, and love. But he had it. It was his and he vowed he would never take it for granted.

Draco took in her entire figure with his eyes, followed by his hands and then his lips. Each kiss and gentle touch preceded a silent promise that nothing would keep them apart ever again. It was a promise that he would keep until his dying breath.

* * *

A/N: Just for clarification: the man that entered Draco's cell was a psychologist, evaluating Draco's sanity. They were originally going to transfer Draco to a ward at St. Mungo's, but that is when Luna stepped in. She took it upon herself to take care of him. His waning sanity will eventually improve with Luna's help as illustrated at the end of the piece.


End file.
